Senseless
by PrettyMouth
Summary: One by one, things are going downhill and Clare's going along with it.


Disclaimer : I don't own Degrassi (sadly.)

This is my first ever Degrassi fan fiction. I'm such a big Eclare shipper, I just had to write a story. Although my stories always tend to be a little dark but it's always fun to shake things up a bit. Anyways, I'm not sure if I should keep this as a one-shot or make it multi-chaptered? Either way, enjoy my darlings.

"Randall!" Her mother yelled, echoing all the way from downstairs. "Don't even give me that excuse!"

In Clare's hands were the soundproof headphones Eli had given her. She gripped them tight, her grip not letting go. As much as she wanted to put them on, she wanted to hear what her parents had to say.

The same yelling and screaming had been going on for the last week. Things had gotten bad, really bad. Clare hadn't talked to her father in almost four days. No "hello", "how was school", or "love you". Her mother only talked to her if she had to. Clare spent most of her time in her room doing homework when she wasn't at school. She felt like she was on auto-pilot, the same horrid routine over and over again.

It was nine in the evening, the sun already had gone down. In an hour the fighting would reach it's peak for the night. It always did around ten. Dishes would break. Curses would fly through the air. And Clare would eventually let a few tears escape.

The Edwards family was a quiet little Christian family known for being perfect. At least they used to be. Slowly, one by one, the Edwards were crumbling. Darcy was the first one. Then Mr. Edwards and now her mother. Clare wondered when her time would come. When she wouldn't be perfect little miss Clare anymore.

And slowly she knew it was happening. She had become less social, only interacting at school. She gave excuses to Adam, Eli, & Alli all the time to avoid contact outside of school. She always had "too much homework" or a "church fundraiser". And what killed her was that she was lying, lying to her best and only friends.

"What happened?" Helen Edwards yelled. "When did everything go downhill?" Her yell turned into a cry. Clare felt her eyes water up but held back her tears. She had to stay strong, she had to have hope, it was the only thing she could hold on to.

As the hour went by, Clare read her English assignment for the eleventh time. She knew it by heart now but she kept reading hoping that it would drift her mind away. She knew it wouldn't but she couldn't help but try.

"I'm sick of this! I'm sick of you!" Her father yelled. A single tear escaped, sliding down Clare's cheek.

"Is that why that whore's been calling our house every night?" Mrs. Edwards yelled. "You're just gonna forget what family you have here and sleep with you co-worker!"

Clare couldn't hold it back anymore. She had no idea, she never wanted to her that. Her father had been cheating on her mother, her mother who loved her family so much. _Adultery_. The word repeated in her head.

_Adultery._

_Adultery._

_Adultery._

"How could you?" Clare whispered, tears pouring down her face.

She got up from her bed, throwing the headphones into a corner. Walking to the other side of the room, she tore open Darcy's old closet.

_Adultery. _The word still rang in her head.

She ripped clothes their hangers, sending them to the floor.

_Adultery._

She grabbed a pair of black pumps, a distant smile appearing on her face. They were midnight black and seductive. Surely something Clare would never wear. She wasn't even sure if Alli would wear them.

_Sinner._

She heard the word in her mind, mocking her. The Edwards family was not perfect and nowhere close. They were not saints, sinners were more like it. Clare wasn't even sure if the Edwards were Christian anymore. She didn't know what to believe.

She grabbed a dark navy skirt out the closet and draped it over her arm. Short was an understatement when describing the skirt. She was surprised Darcy got away with wearing it. The clothes were a reminder that Darcy, was nowhere near perfect. And so was Clare, she realized.

"Why should I be the person they want me to be?" She said, grabbing a shirt. It was small and tight. It had a deep scoop neck, and would cling to every curve.

She slammed the closet door and threw the clothes on her arm on her bed. She walked over to Darcy's old wooden desk. "Maybe I'm not supposed to be little miss Christian." She picked up a tube of dark red lipstick and lined her lips with the deep, rich color. She smacked her lips together making a popping noise.

"Maybe I'm just a sinner, like the rest of my screwed up family." She grabbed an eyeliner pencil of the color black. She rimmed her eyelids with the stick, making her blue eyes look darker. She threw down the pencil and walked back over to her bed. She stripped off her pajamas and put on the tight shirt. It ended just below her belly button. Her chest barely fell out of the shirt.

Clare grabbed the navy skirt and slid it on. It was tight and short, exactly how she wanted it. It went mid thigh and hung dangerously low around her hips. The heals were the finishing touch. She put them on and stood in front of the mirror on her door.

"Goodbye saint Clare," she whispered. "Hello to the real me."

A single tear fell down her cheek that she quickly wiped away.


End file.
